Mario Tz.

Death Hands

A gaping mouth, death's hands pry
A mournful countenance an eternal cry
All my belief's die in thee
Humbled entrenched by deep humility
I know nothing but sweet melancholy
As I understand with sympathy
That whether its life after death
Or no life to be
There is something with more breadth
Than my weak self, than me…

Poem Submitted: Thursday, November 14, 2013
Poem Edited: Friday, November 15, 2013

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